


Something Else

by Lifeinahole



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Summer Camp, F/M, camp counselors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-01
Updated: 2015-04-01
Packaged: 2018-12-03 04:04:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11524173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lifeinahole/pseuds/Lifeinahole
Summary: This far in the summer, Emma and Killian are stuck somewhere between friendship and something more. A quiet moment is all it takes for things to tip towards more.





	Something Else

**Author's Note:**

> This was my very first CS fic. It's taken me a long time to get everything posted over here, so apologies. Originally posted on FFN April 1, 2015. Date changed to reflect that.

It’s because the day is so easy that Emma decides it’s okay to relax for a while. It’s not long until the sun sets, but there’s enough time to go for a ride and soak it up while it lasts. The trip down to the lake is short, so Emma only attaches the bridle to her favorite horse and sets off.

The summer camp she works at is quiet, for once. It’s a rare moment of peace for Emma, and she revels in the hush that surrounds her during the short ride. With one group of campers picked up earlier in the day, another won’t arrive until the following afternoon. The kids that had been with the camp for the last week were surprisingly well-behaved and tidy. It had shocked all of the counselors how quickly the place cleaned up.

With that thought pushing her forward, Emma breaks through the clearing to the lake. She ambles the mare along the waterline for a while before gently leading them into the water. She knows if they go in far enough that her bare toes would skim the lake, but stays closer to the beach instead. The small, man-made lake barely produces waves. When she halts the horse, all she hears is breathing and the tiniest laps of the water on the shore.

Emma looks across the water and lets her mind wander like the ripples that crease the surface. The job at the camp is one of the most rewarding she’s ever had. The kids, for as loud or rambunctious as they can be, are always excited for whatever the camp throws their way. She loves seeing their faces as they explore the woods surrounding the campgrounds. She watches closely as their eyes light up when they climb into the saddle for the first time. She comforts when, on the rare occasion, a camper cries because they are away from home for the first time. It’s all part of the job and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

The other counselors make the job even better. Some more than others, she thinks and purses her lips. She’s been here for over a month and the looks between her and one of the other counselors have heated up more than the summer nights. Killian Jones first seemed like nothing but a nefarious playboy. He seemed to flirt with all the women, and even some of the men when she thinks of his bromantic partnerships with some of the guys. And the glint in his eyes as he needled Emma’s dishwashing technique during the first week was enough to trip every alarm bell she had.

This far into the game, however, Emma and Killian are somewhere in between friendship and something more than friendship. Emma heaves out a sigh and carefully tilts back on the horse. She looks over at the setting sun and thinks of blue eyes and the side glances he sends her when they’ve done some clever new thing the campers were not expecting. It took less than a week for them to discover they make quite the team.

She’s so wrapped in her thoughts that she doesn’t notice the devil himself approach the water.

“If you ruminate hard enough, Swan, you may convince the sun to stay above the horizon,” he calls to her. It’s only thanks to the state of relaxation she’s in that she doesn’t tip off the horse’s back, or startle it into motion. Instead, she turns her head and looks back at him.

Killian toes off his shoes and tugs his off socks. He looks up to see her watching him and grins wide. She looks at home there, stretched out on the back of the horse, bare feet dangling toward the water. He steps carefully until he’s standing close enough to see her hand absentmindedly stroking the mare’s flank.

“How’d you know I was here?” She doesn’t sound annoyed, which is always a point in the right column.

“You left your shoes in the barn. Every time you’ve left them there, it’s because you’re down here,” he replies, as if this is something obvious and well-known. The answer still furrows her brows, though, and she looks at him like he’s a puzzle and she’s only missing a few more pieces.

“You noticed that?”

“Aye,” he says quietly. “I even brought them in case you wanted to walk back.”

It’s something she usually does, but ends up hating herself the following day because of having to navigate the path with nothing between her feet and the ground.

“You are something else,” she says. Her small smile says that this is a good thing, so Killian smiles back. He moves closer, but maneuvers himself to smooth a hand down the horse’s neck, whispering soothing nothings to her. It’s an accident that her favorite horse also happens to be his.

Emma carefully lifts herself to sit again, listening to the hush of his accent as he talks to the horse. She’s paying little attention to the actual words and more to the tones of his voice, the curl of the words moving from his lips. She chooses either the best or worst time to start listening as he shifts his focus back to her.

“…don’t mind, I’m going to remove the beautiful woman from you now, and hopefully kiss her if she’ll let me,” he says quietly. She has to remind herself to breathe, because suddenly it’s real. This thing that’s been sitting between them over weeks of shared meals, campfires with kids, downtime with the other counselors, and every space when they’re together is not just something she’s been imagining. He seems to be handling it a lot better than her, though, and just holds out a hand to let her make the decision.

Of course she takes it. She would be an idiot not to, not when those lips are tipped up into a small smile that she only ever sees when he’s looking at her. And especially not when those blue eyes are fixed on her and she suddenly and desperately wants to know how it feels to run her fingers along the stubble on his stupidly perfect jawline. She carefully swings a leg over and, with his help, slides down until she’s standing in the water next to him. He doesn’t remove his hands from her waist, just uses them to draw her a little closer. She gives in to that urge and brushes her fingertips along his jaw, carefully noting the strange sensation of the soft yet scratchy hair that’s growing there.

“I don’t know, Dinah, I don’t think she can handle-” She doesn’t let him finish, shutting him up with her lips on his. To his credit, he tries to keep it sweet. His lips are gentle as they press against hers. But weeks of this shit, mixed with the persistent innuendos he likes to throw at her, makes her want for more. She slides her fingers to his neck and thumbs at the spot just behind his ear. He responds as if she’s flipped a switch and he pulls her closer, tilting his head to kiss her harder, and her breath leaves her in one whoosh as his hands leave her waist to roam. One ends up in the back pocket of her jean shorts, firmly on her ass, while the other slides up the back of the flannel shirt she threw on after dinner. Even through the thin material of her t-shirt she can feel the warmth of that hand. When their tongues slide against each other, she doesn’t even notice that she sways into his body or the hum of appreciation she makes in the back of her throat. It’s only when he pulls back, breathing a little shaky, that she notices how tightly they are pressed together.

“Jesus, Emma,” he says roughly, but his tone is playful and he’s pressing his forehead against hers and she can’t help the smug grin that appears on her face. It’s comforting to know she can cause such a reaction. She stretches both of her arms to drape them over his shoulders and hums a little victory laugh. When she tilts her head back and opens her eyes, she’s not entirely surprised by the affection she sees on his face. It was only a matter of time, really, and she’s sure her face mirrors his.

“We should get back,” she says. It’s not that she wants to leave this spot, this moment, but she’s already anticipating the catcalls and quiet money exchanges that will take place because they’ll all just know. He exhales heavily, and she knows he’s thinking the same thing.

“This should make the next month and a half interesting,” he says with a grin.

She’s not sure if he means the reactions from the other counselors, though, or the fact that stolen moments like this were all they’d get until the end of the season. The expectation of something more makes her curl her toes in the sand beneath the water. He reluctantly pulls away from her and goes to fetch Dinah, who decided she would rather wander a few feet away, perhaps afraid Killian would press Emma up against her side in a moment of passion.

With the reins in hand, Killian walks toward the water’s edge at the same time Emma does. She’s excited to have shoes for the walk back, but after a few steps in the dry sand, she’s frustrated with the logistics of sliding anything back on her feet. Killian, it seems, has thought of this ahead of time.

“Here,” he says, holding out a handkerchief for her to dry her feet and get some of the sand off.

“Who even carries these anymore?” she asks, but gratefully drops into the sand by their shoes for a moment to clean up her feet before sliding her shoes back on. He’s balancing lightly against the horse to clean his own off with another handkerchief and she stands up to take the reins while he quickly replaces his socks and shoes.

“You know, Swan, that I am first and foremost a gentleman. And gentlemen always make sure to carry such things in case of emergencies,” he says cheekily as he stands up straight. She rolls her eyes but smiles, not for the first time hearing how much of a gentleman he claims to be.

“Say what you want, Jones, but gentlemen usually don’t grab ass during a first kiss.”

“I was lost in the moment. And you started it. You had to go and touch that spot behind my ear and a man just can’t help himself after something like that,” he says, all while walking backwards toward the path that leads back to camp.

“Mmhmm, you keep telling yourself that. I’ve seen pirates with better restraint around booty,” she responds. She’s focused on where she’s stepping in the fading light, so she doesn’t notice him stop until she bumps into him.

“Gentleman in the streets, but a pirate in the sheets,” he intones, furthering his point by reaching down and squeezing one cheek firmly through her jeans again before releasing her and turning around. “Now let’s hope someone actually remembered to go for a beer run today.” He’s walked several feet away before he turns and sees her still rooted to the spot he left her. She just shakes her head though, and starts walking again.

“Something else,” she repeats, but as she draws even with him she laces her fingers with his for the walk back.

He stays with her even as she returns the horse, making sure everything in the barn is ready for the next round the following day. As they head to where the others have surely built a bonfire, he stops to pull her into his arms again and presses his lips to her temple. It’s just their luck that Ruby witnesses and scampers ahead to alert the others.

When they walk into the clearing, everyone is handing money over to Will who, somehow, managed to pin it down right to the day.


End file.
